Dance of the Vampires fic
by Magda
Summary: First Dance of the Vampires fic here - continuation of the musical/film as it should be. R/R much appreciated! And we're sorry for accidently deleting several reviews earlier.. didn't mean to!
1. Chapter One

Chapter One 

*He's all mine now.* Herbert had thought, gleefully. Just before the professor had completed the cross. The holy pain was as nothing compared to what felt seeing Alfred disappear with the girl his father had rejected him for. When he looked for sympathy in his father's face, all he saw was a heart-broken man who couldn't care less about the adopted son he'd said he loved. 

'No! Don't go!' he wailed after Alfred, taking a small, tottering step towards the cross, ignoring the pain as long as he could. 'Don't be such a bloody fool!' his armoured dance partner snarled, grabbing at his arm 'Get away from it!' 

He shook him off, tried another step and collapsed to the floor. No, there was no way he could follow. He crawled to his feet and scrambled his way out of the hall, after everyone else. As he leant on the doorframe, he saw the sky beginning to lighten in the distance through the door the guests were disapppearing through. There were only a handful left. 

He straightened up as he tried to sort out his head. He had been so close... Alfred had wanted him, he felt it. He needed comfort. The vampire in armour was still there, but for once he didn't want to just have a quick fuck and forget it. He looked towards his father, and gently put a hand on his arm. 

'Leave me alone.' Von Krolock hissed 'Go away.' 

With a trembling lip, Herbert turned towards the stairs. There was still a small crowd of men, looking as if they were perfectly willing to comfort him, if they could get sex out of it. They closed in around him, offering false comiserations and each hoping they'd get him to bed. 

'Fuck off.' he whispered tightly, unable to speak. 'I know exactly what you want. Just fuck off and leave me alone!' His voice rose to a shriek as he tore through them and ran down the corridor. 

Rather than running to the crypt he shared with his father, he escaped to the bedroom he'd had Koukol prepare for him and Alfred. He wanted to be alone with his misery. 

He slammed the door behind him and slid to the floor, stifling tears. He'd even had a fire lit so Alfred wouldn't get cold. His eyes drifted around the warm, cozy room from the fire in the oversized grate to the ornate wardrobe, the painting of some English king, a beautiful Persian rug, and the bed. The covers were carefully, invitingly open, bringing back his fantasies of the shy young apprentice. Herbert suddenly found himself desperately wanting to hold something, anything, to keep the pain in. Slowly he dragged himself to his feet, kicked off his shoes and climbed into the bed. Snuggling down under a sheet, a huge fold of the duvet hugged to his chest, he could almost feel Alfred's body next to his, like in the time they had been so rudely interrupted in the bathroom. Thinking of that feeling was the final trigger. He buried his face in the Edwardian duvet, as he sobbed fit for his still heart to break. 

* * * * * * * 

Transsylvanian forest, early morning. In the distance Sarah could still see the mountains hiding the castle from their view. She knew that in a few hours the sun would rise. Where'd they go then? They certainly couldn't go back to the village. Although.. thinking of it, they could. Sarah imagined her mother's reaction upon seeing her child as a recently died vampire and grinned. They probably missed her at home, and deep down inside she cared, but for now, they really need a place to stay for the ..day. 

Sarah was having a hard time keeping Alfred from biting Professor Abronsius, who hadn't even caught on yet that they were both vampires now.. and very hungry ones at that. But something told Sarah they couldn't just go and bite the professor. They still needed him. Supposedly. 

'Saraaa.. let me go?' Alfred whined like a little child, currently in a rather dazed state from the great loss of blood. 'I'm hungry!' He kept licking his fangs, getting used to the odd feeling of having them in his mouth. None of the two had gotten the hang of retracting them yet. 'Oh get a grip!' Sarah told him, then walked over to the professor, making sure Alfred wouldn't follow and try anything. 'Professor?' she purred. 'What do you suppose we do now?' 

Abronsius had been lost in thought and stared at Sarah at first when she talked to him. Then he looked down.. to her fangs. He gasped and raised a hand to get a better look at them, but Sarah hissed and turned away from him as fast as she could in her long ballgown. Abronsius showed no sign of fear. He doubted Sarah would come and bite him, she was far too intelligent for that. 

And Alfred.. well, after long years of having him tug along, the professor knew him well enough to tell that the sight of blood scared him to death.. literally. 'So.' Abronsius started, not at all reacting to Sara's hissing and baring of teeth. 'What does it feel like?' 

Sarah stared at the professor. She'd expected every sort of reaction.. but that? And what was he doing.. getting out his notebook?? 

By now Alfred was staring as well, having forgotten about biting. He was only getting aware of what he now was. He stepped a bit closer and the professor looked up to him. 'Come here.' he said and Alfred did so, confused. He also kneeled down and patiently let Abronsius examine his teeth. 

When the professor finally let go and started to unpack his bag right there, Sarah got annoyed. Alfred, innocent as ever, stared at her, unable to say anything as she started yelling at the professor. 'Look, the sun's gonna be up very soon, and I'd really prefer beeing somewhere dark and warm by then, so can we please??' Abronsius looked up once more, a bit annoyed but not at all impressed. 'Of course. Where do you want to go?' he said, like he'd never had anything else in mind. Sarah was surprised. 'Well..' 

'Um.. can't we just go back to the castle and stay there?' Alfred suggested. Abronsius and Sarah looked at him. He had his arms wrapped around his body and was shivering, lips turning blue. Why Sarah wasn't cold in that dress he couldn't understand. As noone replied, Alfred got a bit desperate. 'Please?!' he begged. 

'Alright!' said Abronsius and slammed his notebook shut, then put it in his bag. 'Let's go back.' He pulled the shivering Alfred with him and walked past Sarah, following their vaguely visible footsteps. They'd lost the horse sled along with the horse hours ago, leaving it stuck in the snow. The wolfes had probably taken care of the poor horse by now, so there'd been no other option for the small group than to walk. Where ever they had been going. 

'Sarah?' Alfred called back when he noticed that she wasn't following. 'I'm coming, I'm coming..' she said, more to herself than to Alfred. They were now walking against the very strong and icy wind, through the fresh snow that was still falling, and Sarah was having trouble with her dress and high heeled boots. When she finally reached Professor Abronsius and Alfred, they took her in the middle and that way they walked back to the castle in silence, the only sounds the howling of the wind and that of the wolves. 

'FUCK!' Sarah snarled as the heel of her right boot disengaged itself from the sole. 

'What's wrong, darling?' Alfred inquired, very worried that she might be hurt. 

'These boots are made for dancing, not trekking through sodding forests at dawn. And I'm not your darling.' She snarled back. 'Well, wait for me!' She whined, stopping to take off the damaged footwear. She hissed in surprise when she felt the snow, and it didn't seem cold. 

'What are you standing around idly chatting for?' The professor asked, as he came scuttling back towards them. 'We haven't got all - night, you know, it's nearly dawn and you know what'll happen then if we don't.....' Alfred rolled his eyes and blocked him out. He was very good at that, had a lot of experience. 

Then Sarah said what he had always dreamt of saying, but never had the guts to. 'Shut up, you boring old git.' The professor started back slightly as she explained 'My boot's broken.' 

'Oh dear. We won't have to carry you, will we?' 

'I can manage perfectly well on my own.' She lied icily. 

They carried on their way in silence, the professor striding, Alfred nervously treading to escape any rogue undergrowth that might try to eat him, and Sarah stalking on one foot, hobbling on the other. 

Just as they were getting used to the lack of noise, the trees to the left of their path burst to the sides in explosion of fallen snow, hailing Koukol's descent from the castle, riding a coffin. 'Uuurrrgh!' He grunted 'Uuurgh, oo!(translation - hey, hey you) Urrrv g't come ack urrrv mrrr!(you've got to come back with me)Ur uh masstr'll kll mrr(or the master will kill me)' 

After several more frantic grunts and snorts, the trio eventually got the message that they were required back at the castle to ensure Koukol's job security, and as they were headed back there anyway, were happy to agree that he had 'caught' them and was returning them captive. 

*After all,* the professor mused, *It wouldn't look very good if we came crawling back of our own accord, so soon after escaping. "Oh, hi, it's us again. I know we just tried to kill you and ran away from you like the plague, losing your best sled and killing your horse in the process, but no hard feelings, eh? Can you put us up for a few nights?".* 

No, it was definitely a good thing Koukol had appeared. 


	2. Chapter Two

Authors' note: Alexei isn't Von Krolock's real name, in neither the film or the musical. We made it up. Should anyone know what it really is, you'd do us a great favor if you'd email us. 

Chapter Two 

Alexei von Krolock stood, unmoving, like the corpse he nearly was. He was facing the window, and the fast approaching dawn, but he could have been staring straight into the face of a vampire slayer for all he cared. 

Sarah was gone. Dragged from his grasp, half-turned, alone in the hostile outside world of harsh sunlight and garlic. He would have been gentle, he would have looked after her if she'd stayed. She didn't even resist when they seized her wrist - why the bloody hell not? Because he hadn't been careful, that's why, he thought bitterly. 

He had meant to open a wound, make it impressive for the party, and save the serious drinking for later. That way they could have danced. But no, 300 years experience and he couldn't limit himself. 

He thought he could overcome the thirst - he had when she had first arrived, still panting from the run, colour flushing her cheeks and her pulse thumping visibly along the veins - it was hard, but he had done it. Left her hair where it was, not even touched the neck. And to think she hadn't even noticed! 

But at the ball, with the music in his ears, dancing to the beat of her heart, he couldn't help it. 'Are you ready?' he'd whispered. Her bright eyes and slight nod told him all he wanted and needed to know. She let him clear the skin, relaxed her throat - and then he was too nervous about deflowering such a beautiful creature to do it right. His teeth landed in her shoulder and ripped the wrong vessel, the artery instead of the vein, spraying blood directly into his mouth - and once he'd tasted it, he couldn't stop. He swallowed huge mouthfuls, pretending to himself that he was doing the right thing by not wasting it. When the flow lessened, he had somehow managed to let go and, with some shock, registered the fact that she had passed out in his arms. He wanted to make sure she was all right, that she wasn't dead yet, but he had to prove to the guests that he'd done what he set out to do. 

They did look impressed, leaning forwards greedily, trying to grab a piece for themselves. Once he'd made a full circle, he thought she'd have got her strength back - and, when he placed her on her feet, she stood steadily enough. Until he removed his arm, and realised just how much she'd been depending on him to keep her upright. He fought the urge to catch her as she collapsed to the floor, trying his hardest to look like he didn't really care. 

A congregation of vampires might be friends against a common enemy, but the rest of the time they were rivals and he couldn't afford to let them see any weaknesses. 

*Why do I indulge in these memories?* He asked himself sharply. *Is it because I don't have anything else?* 

His jaw tightened, the corners of his mouth starting to tug insistently down. *No. I don't have anything else.* 

His face was stony, set in grim determination not to let any emotion escape him. Especially not grief. Grief was weak, feeble. It made you helpless. 

He slowly lifted one hand, detached, as if it wasn't a part of his body, to hide his face. From who, he didn't know. With the other he gripped the stone windowsill. 

If his knuckles hadn't been white to start with, they would have been by now. He clenched the muscles in his face spasmically, forcing his mouth into a straight line, keeping his eyes open. 

The windowsill started to crumble. 

* * * * * * * 

'The sun's coming up...' 

'But what a beautiful specimen! Alfred, look at this!' The professor had whipped out his travelling magnifying glass, and was bent over a small snow-thriving fern. 'The formation of the fronds is quite amazing...' 

'I do not BELIEVE you!' Sarah practically screamed, kicking him with her more intact boot. 'We're about to die and you're staring at a fucking PLANT?' 

He backed off, wary of another one of her tantrums. 

Koukol got out of the way. He'd seen almost-vampires like this before, and it didn't help to get in their way. 

'Hmm, perhaps you're right, dear girl...' 

'STOP CALLING ME DEAR!!!' 

'I think we should get back to the castle, the sky is getting rather light....' 

Sarah stalked off moodily up the hill, the professor in pursuit. A few yards behind them, Alfred staggered along with the coffin. The professor had insisted that they bring it, in case they couldn't reach the castle before dawn and needed something to protect the two vampires from the sun. 

The thought of sharing such a small, confined space with Alfred was enough to make Sarah forget about her limp and practically run. 

********** 

Alexei gripped the handful of grey dust in his hand even tighter, digging his nails into the remaining stone. No matter how hard he tried, his face still twitched unstoppably and tears threatened. Just as one was about to tip over his lower lid, the door crashed open. 

He whirled round angrily, thankful of the distraction, to see Koukol - in rather bad shape (even worse than normal, that is), the Professor, Alfred and Sarah emerging from the fading darkness. 

'Sara -' he choked, steppng towards her, his arms open. As she ran towards him the entire sole of the other boot decided it was time to join the heel of the first. She tripped, landing squarely in his arms - and once she was there, he didn't want let her go. 

'Sara.. oh my darling...' 

'Excellency...' she whispered back. 

'Alexei.' He replied, 'To you, I'm Alexei.' before kissing her. 

They spent the next few minutes totally involved in each other, whilst Alfred stared on horrified, open mouthed. 

'I expect -' the Count said to him, slightly muffled, 'That you'll be wanting to know where my son is.' He looked up, a slightly dirty smile on his lips. 

'He had Koukol prepare a bedroom. Koukol, would you?' 

Koukol nodded and eagerly made his way over to Alfred, who was still far too surprised, shocked and confused to argue and easily let Von Krolock's servant drag him out of the hall, down a long corridor. 

Sarah looked up at Alexei lovingly, and he smiled down at her. They were still in each other's arms, unwilling to let go. The count looked over to Abronsius, who was on the other side of the hall, unaware of their presence. 

'We can just leave him here.' Alexei told Sarah. 'He'll find his way to the library, which is where he'll go, no doubt.' She nodded, a dreamy look on her face. 

Alexei grinned 'You don't even care do you?' he asked, caressing her hair, which was slightly wet with melting snow. 

'No.' she replied and kissed him boldly. Alexei sighed and closed his eyes for a second, relishing the moment. How he'd dreamt of this! Still kissing, he swept her up in his arms. She squealed a bit in surprise and broke their kiss, but quickly relaxed and gladly let Von Krolock carry her. 

'We'll retire now, Professor!' He told Abronsius, but the professor didn't seem to hear them. Alexei shook his head, then left, carefully carrying Sarah through the castle. 

The heavy doors to the counts quarters opened by themselves and candles lit as soon as the vampires entered, bathing the room in a warm, golden light, still pleasantly dark. Walking as if he were in a dream, Von Krolock carried Sarah to the huge bed, the doors closing behind them. He looked down at her lovingly.. and hungrily. She looked somewhat drunk, her eyes half closed. She watched as Alexei slid out of his boots and unfastened his cape, letting it flow to the ground. 

Then, with a fast and elegant movement, he slid on top of her, gliding his hands gently along her body, caressing her through the thin fabric of the dress she was wearing. He started at her waist, up to her breasts, along her throat. He was shaking, restraining himself from simply ramming his teeth into her neck violently and draining her. There was still a lot of blood in her body, and Alexei felt it. He could smell, almost hear it, and the taste of it still lingered in his mouth. He sighed. 'I don't want to hurt you.' 

Sarah let her hand glide through his silky hair, pressing him slightly closer. 'You won't.' With that she closed her eyes and arched up, offering her throat and blood to him. 'Drink.' she whispered. 'Finish what you started.' 

Surprised, but unable to hold back the urge any longer, Alexei opened his mouth, his razor sharp fangs rapidly growing out of his normal teeth. And within less than a second, he had opened the wound that had slowly begun to heal, and blood was spilling into his mouth. 

Sarah stiffened and moaned, feeling all blood and live being sucked out of her. She was dying, and it felt so wonderful. The last thing she knew was that she was pressing close to Alexei, encouraging him to drink. Then she stiffened, her eyes fell shut and she lay limply in his arms. 


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three 

*What am I doing?* Alfred thought as he hurried after Koukol. For a hunchback, he moved pretty damn fast. *I am racing towards a creature * - He stumbled on a step, earning an impatient grunt and shake of the candlestick from Koukol - *Who tried to seduce and kill me earlier today. Was that really today?* He was shocked at the sudden passage of time. *It feels like a lifetime ago.* 

Koukol led him through a rabbit's warren of corridors, at a pace that would previously have left him staggering and gasping for breath. When he had still been breathing. He had no idea where they were, so he had to follow Koukol just to stop getting lost. 

Abruptly, he stopped along a pretty nondescript corridor. The unlit candlabra on the walls threw guttering shadows from the light of the candles the crippled manservant carried. 

Alfred nearly collided with him. 

'Ngh.' 

'S-sorry, what?' 

'Uh ngh'. Koukol gesticulated rather wildly at the stolen pink dress-coat Alfred was still wearing from the ball. 

'Oh, I see. Sorry. The coat. Um, yes.' He slipped it off one arm, and turned round to take off the other. 

His glance fell on the worn-out carpet on the floor, and he instantly remembered Alegory's theory of vampires and light. He had no shadow. Under normal circumsances, he would have been startled, scared. But for some reason he wasn't. He was - enlightened. 

*So I'm a vampire. A real one.* He continued to stare at the candlelit floor as he slipped off the ancient garment. *Herbert wouldn't hurt me now, would he? He couldn't, really.* 

'I'm afraid I... lost the wig... in the... forest...' He murmered absently, his back to Koukol. 

*So if I'm already dead and he can't hurt me, what do have to be afraind of?* 

'Oh, here.' He turned round and dropped the coat into Koukol's hand. 

*I could go right in there and tell him exactly what I think of him, and he wouldn't be able to do a blind thing about it.* 

He paused, Koukol forgotten, with his hand on the door handle. 

*What DO I think of him, anyway?* 

* * * * * * * 

Koukol settled back to listen to the proceedings. Well, no-one had told him not to. 

Apart from small, surprised sounding squeaks, everything was quiet. 

He fixed his eyes on a particularly audaious, fat rat glaring at him from between to slabs of rock in the opposite wall. It looked rather tasty. Licking his lips, he stealthily crept towards it, hand outstretched to catch the unfortunate rodent. Just as his fingers closed around the squirming little body, he was startled by a high pitched scream from the bedroom. 

Dropping the rat, he pressed his ear against he door to listen. *So he's in then.* He listened to the grunting and soft sobs that sounded like they were half pain, half pleasure induced. 

*Ooh, he's gone in dry.* Koukol didn't get much sex, being a crippled vampire's manservant with a humped back and bad breath, so he had naturally become a voyeur, and very close to his right hand. 

There had been one time, though, when he had caused the shrieks of the young count's 'son' himself. Oh, that had been good. 

* * * * * * * 

It was two days after the Count had announced that he was taking a vow of celibacy for some girl from the village, and his little playmate hadn't taken it well. He was used to sex, and lots of it. 

He had been sitting in the library when Koukol went in to offer him a young wolf for lunch. Herbert had never been shy about pleasuring himself around the castle, and he wasn't going to start now. 

Koukol watched in fascination as he masturbated fiercely right in front of him, unaware of his presence. He didn't sound like he was enjoying it all that much, he sounded frustrated. 

Koukol felt himself growing hard as he thought of all the fantasies the young master had provided him, and discreetly started rubbing himself through the several layers of cloth that compromised his clothing. 

He stopped with a slightly startled grunt, as he remembered exactly who he was. It wouldn't do to ejaculate in the presence of nobility. Controlling his accelerated breath, he reached out his left hand and touched Herbert's shoulder, ready to recieve a sharp slap or order. 

Before he knew what had happened, he was down on the floor with a snarling, horny vampire astride his hips. He thought he was going to get bitten again. The master -the older one- had earlier turned down his offer of wolf, in preferance of werewolf. I.e, Koukol, and he was feeling a little light-headed. 

He was about to mention this when he felt a small hand dive down his trousers and start stroking his engorged cock vigourously, before yanking his own down leather ones to his knees and slamming himself down hard, filling himself with Koukol's heated flesh. 

Sheesh, vampires move fast. 

He grunted delightedly as the cool vice engulfed him. Herbert started fucking himself hard and loud on his servant, so horny he would have fucked.... well, his servant. Koukol was seeing a picture he had seen many times before, but only in his head - the young master impaled on his cock, and loving it. 

Koukol took a risk and moaned loudly. No response from Herbert telling him to stop, so he didn't. He started pouring out his heart to the gyrating boy, telling him all his wildest fantasies, but he could have been reciting a recipe for short-crust puffed pastry for all Herbert knew or cared. 

It didn't last long. It couldn't, really. Herbert was so desperate he came after a couple of minutes' desperate humping, and Koukol exploded seconds after that. 

When Herbert came he didn't bother to cover himself or catch it, so it jetted out over Koukol's broad expanse of stomach. He screamed out loud, Koukol's voice joining his in discordant harmony as the tight grip of the vampire's ass forced his orgasm as well. 

When he was finished, Herbert stood up without a word and left the room, idly doing himself up. 

Koukol lay dazed for a few seconds before staggering to his feet and limping back to his workshop. It seemed they would need a new coffin soon. 

* * * * * * * 

Herbert heard the door creak open. Probably Koukol, Papa would have sent him to drag him back to his coffin before day. 

He wouldn't go. He didn't care about the light any more. 'Fuck off' He hiccuped, lifting his head a little, but not bothering to face the door. 'Leave me alone.' 

The door shut, purring softly over the carpet. He relaxed again. The tears had long since dried up, he just felt tired and miserable. Rubbing his face into the cloth, he hugged it a little closer and imagined it was the cooling body of Alfred, recently, willingly killed. 

Alfred looked at the prostrate form of the vampire with some surprise. Was that worn out figure the vigourous, unshakable, over-confident count's son? Surely he wouldn't be lying in bed crying? He would be throwing a tantrum that he couldn't have the toy he wanted, to be pacified with a new one and then forget that Alfred ever existed. Wouldn't he? 

An unmistakable sob shuddered through the body. Herbert shifted his legs slightly. Beautiful, elegantly shaped legs, clad in their tight black leather. Alfred felt his mouth go slightly dry as his eyes were drawn to the rather nice bum at the top. 

*What would that be like to fuck, anyway?* His fangs had slid back into his gums unconsiously while he was tearing down the corridors after Koukol, and he now felt them grow long and sharp again. *Such beautiful legs... and that hair. He's practically a girl. A bitch.* Herbert choked back another sob. 

*A bitch who tried to kill me.* His eyes narrowed a little. *He wants my cock up his arse, does he? Then he can have it. It's his fault I'm dead. The little whore deserves it.* 

As he stopped crying, Herbert began to sense that the room wasn't quite right. It seemed too full. *That bastard. Why can't he ever leave me alone?* Herbert lifted himself up onto one elbow, starting to turn around to challenge Koukol, who he was certain was there. 

'Get out of here right now and I might not have you -' 

Alfred suddenly found a very good use for his new-found vampiric speed. Before he knew what was going on, Herbert found himself pinned under 150 pounds of half-vampire. 

'Killed?' Alfred snarled, teeth on full display. 'It's a bit late for that, isn't it?' 

There was a tense silence for a few seconds. 

'Alfred?' Herbert whispered. 'You - you're here?' 

'Oh yes, I'm here.' Alfred nearly spat back at him, shaking with what he assumed was fury. 

'Oh Alfred...' Herbert sobbed back, before kissing him. 

Alfred shoved him away and as he was forced back into the pillow, Herbert noticed the two small puncture wounds on his throat. 

'That bitch bit you?' *How could she? She knew I wanted him! She doesn't even care about him!* 

'She bit me. But I've still got enough blood in me to fuck you.' 

Herbert squeaked as Alfred suddenly reared back, yanking him underneath him and tearing the leather down to his knees. 

'Wha-' Herbert managed before Alfred pushed his knees up to his chest, forcing all the air out of his lungs. It was hardly as if he needed to breathe, anyway. 

Trapping the smaller vampire with the weight of his chest, he pulled his own tweed breeches down enough to free his unexplainably rigid cock, then, steadying himself, rammed straight into Herbert's anus. Herbert screamed at the delicious pain, arching up as much as he could to meet the initial thrust. Alfred hadn't prepared him at all, and wasn't planning on giving him time to adjust. It was difficult. He stuck halfway in Herbert's dry flesh, yanked out angrily and shoved in again. It hurt both of them, but neither cared. Herbert rolled his head back in the ecstasy of being out of control, being split open again by his love after 54 years. Alfred didn't really care if it hurt him. He was dead anyway, things could hardly get much worse. And if he hurt Herbert, all the better. 

He pulled out roughly and stabbed back in. It was a little easier than before. Herbert's flesh was a little looser, and the way was eased a little by his thick, syrupy blood. Herbert felt dizzy and light headed, just the way he loved it. The pain should have had him screaming, and it did - but for entirely the wrong reason. He was incredibly horny. His own rigid cock was trapped between his and Alfred's frantically thrusting bodies. The friction of Alfred's flat belly against the sensitive underside was driving him crazy.  
Herbert managed to fold his calves over Alfred's back and tugged him in hard every time he pulled out.   
*He's actually enjoying this? He LIKES it?* Alfred was astounded. *I'm raping him, and he wants more? This is one screwed up vampire.* Alfred almost felt a pang of pity for him. Herbert was close to the edge, he felt himself start to fall. And when he did, he would bite. But if Alfred hadn't drunk by then...   
'Alfred.... Alfred....' he gasped drily. 'Bite me sweetheart... bite me.... You have to drink...' 

*Bite him? why didn't I think of that? God knows it hurts. And what an appropriate punishment for a vampire.* Herbert arched his head back, offering the smooth white column of his neck to Alfred. He shrieked and his body went into spasms as Alfred's teeth crunched through the skin and muscle on the exact mark of his turning bite. He bucked wildly as he came a few seconds later, grabbing Alfred's head and mirroring the bite with his own. Alfred howled into Herbert's neck as the incredible mix of pain, pleasure and confusion overwhelmed him and triggered the most mind-blowing orgasm he had ever experienced in his entire short life. Herbert drained him quickly, and before he had stopped reeling in the aftershock, he lost consciousness and collapsed.  
Herbert gently removed Alfred's teeth from his neck and slowly straightened his legs. There was plenty of his own blood on Alfred's teeth and in his mouth, so he was sure he was safe. He lay back, happy and exahausted, under Alfred's heavy weight. Alfred had torn the walls of his rectum, shredded and drawn blood. Herbert could already feel his blood knitting the flesh back together, the pain dulling. 

'You don't love me yet, Alfred.' he whispered softly 'But you will. You have to.' 


	4. Chapter Four

Herbert's POV   


* * *

  
  
I killed him about three hours ago, I think. He looked magnificently angry then, and a little shocked. I only wish I could have been his first. Sarah just had to ruin him, didn't she? It doesn't matter though. I had him. I finished him. He made me scream. He hurt me. Tore me up inside, but I don't mind, it was him who did it. It healed ages ago. He wasn't lying when he said he had enough blood, it was plently to deal with the tearing and then some. Sarah hardly nibbled him, but I don't think I can forgive her. He was mine, I claimed him. She didn't even notice him before he was food.  
He looks sweet now he's asleep. This is the first time I've watched him sleep, ever. He doesn't love me, not yet. He's still undecided. I doubt he'll ever remember that he did, but that's alright. I'll teach him. It might take years, but I've got them. He'll realise that I'm good for him. I have status. It's worth his while to be with me, he'll never need to work. Magda's seen it. I think she's only friends wih my money, but I don't mind. I like her. I love the way she's screwing Chagal's money out of him. He's not exactly rich, but he's got enough to tide her over until she leaves him. She told me what she's going to do, make him buy her clothes and as much jewellery as possible, wait until someone better comes along, then run off with him through the underground. Go for it, I said. It's a great idea. She doesn't really have anything here to stay for, I'd go with her if I didn't. She's quite the mistress of exploitation now. She'd probably manage to get Papa's fortune if she tried. It's odd. I remember when she was five years old, hitting a boy over the head with a wooden doll. I wish I could have heard what she was saying, but I could only watch through the telescope.   
  
She's quite like Anne-Marie, in a way. Obviously not the same person, but the resemblance is definitely there. I wish I hadn't killed her, I really didn't mean to. And Claude... if he hadn't died in that crash. But that was long ago, and far away. France, actually. I lived there. When I was still alive, obviously. I was supposed to die, too. If Papa hadn't saved me, killed me, I would be properly dead now. I nearly was - I even saw Death. He's a good looking guy, if a little depressive. Great dress sense, too. I have to find out where he had that suit made. It's a beautiful blue velvet, very flattering cut. I'd fancy him, but he's not quite on the same plane as us.   
  
Did Alfred just move? No. That was just his body settling a bit. I would never have expected him to look quite so much like he did as he does. He might have come back as a woman, for all I know. Except he didn't, and I'm very glad of that. His body isn't exactly the same. He's lost the rug on his chest, and he's not as generously built down there as he used to be, but it doesn't matter. I don't care. I love him.  
  
I'm getting tired now, it must be quite late morning. I think I'll just doze for a bit. It's lovely lying with him. He's not going anywhere if I can help it.   
  
Wait.  
  
I can't sleep like this, not with him. Not half naked. I have to get rid of these clothes, they'll need repairing anyway. Shame he tore them, but so worth it. On my own, in my own coffin, there's no reason to take anything off. It's cold, despite the padding. Still. If I'm naked, there's no reason why he shouldn't be. More reason why he should, actually. Save time when he wakes up. That won't be for a while, though. Plenty of time for a nap. Alright, the bed is double, but I want to be close to him. So close we're sharing one body. On top of him's best. Well, he won't mind, really - I'm light, and even if I wasn't, he doesn't need to breathe or anyhing like that.   
Turn the tables a bit. Last time this happened he was on top of me. I'm glad I fell asleep, I wouldn't have been able to breathe or move. We wasted so much time back then, being shy. We only ever got one night together, and even then we were both drunk. The stuff tasted foul, but it sure got rid of his inhibitions. He was good, oh so good. The only time I willingly felt two pulses inside me, my first warm lover. Of course I've had many more since then, I had to fill the gap he tore in my soul when he was taken from me. But I killed most of them afterwards, for Claude. I always felt guilty after letting them fuck me, I needed it but it felt like I was betraying him. I wasn't. That's why I killed them. That and that I was hungry. I think Death felt sorry for me in the infirmary, watching me die, knowing I was in love with one he had taken. I used to lie awake during the day when I was first turned, just so I could cry for him. Papa didn't like me crying in front of him. He said it annoyed him. He wasn't in a very good mood at the time, so I waited until he couldn't hear me to let my tears flow. Sometimes I would hear my love's voice out in the street, or a laugh, or even a carriage stopping in a hurry, and it would start the memories turning. I must have re-lived the moment of the crash a thousand times, trying to think of anything I could have done to save him, just long enough to take him with me. Maybe that's why Death gave him back to me. I knew he would, I took up astrology when I got here. I just stared at the stars because I was bored at first, but I started reading them - and that's when I knew he was coming back to me. I love him so much. I wonder when he'll realise? 


End file.
